The Poetry Corner

Impromptu

By John Clare

"Where art thou wandering, little child?" I said to one I met to-day.-- She pushed her bonnet up and smiled, "I'm going upon the green to play: Folks tell me that the May's in flower, That cowslip-peeps are fit to pull, And I've got leave to spend an hour To get this little basket full." --And thou'st got leave to spend an hour! My heart repeated.--She was gone; --And thou hast heard the thorn's in flower, And childhood's bliss is urging on: Ah, happy child! thou mak'st me sigh, This once as happy heart of mine, Would nature with the boon comply, How gladly would I change for thine.